Fire In The Breeze
by Running For Anothers Dream
Summary: Dragons are a funny sort of creature; they have secrets that even they aren't aware of. This is true even for young ones. And it's a shame, truly and utterly, that Spike's secrets come to life only when fire races across the land and Twilight falls to her knees, trapped in a shattered mind. But some secrets burn worse then embers. Some burn bright enough to match the stars.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: After a very long time and a lot of struggle, I finally present you with this. The first chapter in what will hopefully become an exciting, well received, and hopefully an eventually finished story.

I want to thank Twi of TwiLanes for being the best friend I could ask her. She's a wonderful person with some wonderful stories.

Most importantly I want to dedicate this story to my horse, Wrangler. He was my baby, my best friend, and my heart. I will always miss him.

Read, review, and enjoy!

* * *

The letter comes when the sun is high in the sky. It just appears there, on the table in the center of the room, tied up tight with a ribbon of black lace. The paper is white and unimposing.

"Hey, Spike? Were you expecting something?" Twilight Sparkle calls, placing her book back on the shelf in favor of trotting over to the table.

No one answers. She wonders if the little dragon has gone out somewhere or merely fallen asleep.

"That's odd," mutters Twilight, carefully untying the ribbon. The paper unfurls itself, revealing neat cursive and smooth loops.

The ink is black.

The writing familiar.

The day suddenly much, much more daunting.

-x-x-x-

For a very long time, Twilight Sparkle debates on what she should do.

The letter sits on her dresser now, unfurled and haunting. It can't watch her, of course, because it's nothing more than parchment and ink - yet eyes seem to follow the purple mare around the room, as though someone has crept into her home unaware.

"This isn't right," says Twilight, to herself. Her ears are pressed back and her tail swishes, body wracked with a nervous sort of energy.

She can't sit still.

She can't decide on what to do.

She keeps looking at that letter and it keeps looking at her and all that she can think of is the fact that _this isn't right._

Trixie should not have written her.

But she did.

More than that, she's issued a challenge. One last bid for Ponyville. One last grab for fame and power. One last fight, and can Twilight Sparkle really say _no?_ Can she really turn this down?

And can she, no, should she do it alone?

-x-x-x-

In the end, Twilight decides that this is something the others shouldn't be brought into. Just as the letter instructed, she waits until the moon is high in the sky and then creeps out of her bed. The Golden Oak Library is dark in a way that almost seems imposing, as though it's attempting to swallow her up before she can even step outside.

Twilight Sparkle is so focused on trying to find out why this is (the moon, perhaps, is covered by clouds or maybe the stars are hidden behind fog) that she literally trips over Spike.

The little dragon is curled up on the floor just outside of her bedroom door. A thin blanket is pulled up over him and, at Twilight's stumble, he sits up and rubs tiredly at one eye.

"Twilight?" Spike asks, voice thick with sleep. He narrows his eyes and stands up with a yawn, holding the blanket in place with one hand. "You shouldn't be up."

"Spike!" Twilight takes an almost frantic step backwards. She can feel eyes on her again and the shadows seem to surge forward, pressing against her from all sides, squeezing and holding and gripping all too tight. "You - when did you get back?"

"Go back to bed," insists Spike. "This challenge is stupid. I mean, come on! It's _Trixie_! You can't trust what she says. You really can't go out there in the middle of the night and do - do things!"

He has a point.

Twilight draws herself up anyways and frowns right back at him. There's something in her mind, niggling and pushing her onwards, telling her that this is something that she needs to do.

Alone.

It's a challenge for her, after all, not for everyone with an Element.

Not for her friends.

Her family.

So she can't risk them. She can't bring them along and put them in danger. Not this time. Not with Trixie, who clearly has a plan.

"I'll be back soon," assures Twilight, trying to keep her voice light and gentle. It doesn't work very well. She's too nervous. "Just wait here, okay? This will be sorted out in no time at all!"

-x-x-x-

For being a baby dragon, Spike can be very persistant when he wants to be.

Twilight Sparkle ends up bringing her with him, out to the square. They walk there together, with Spike's clawed hand curled into her mane. Their shoulders brush together with every step.

Ponyville is always alive. Even at night, energy hums through the small town. Ponies visit with their friends or run all-night shops. Voices filter through windows or open doors. The scent of baked goods drift out onto the streets, because this mare made cookies and that stallion wanted a tart.

Except, that is, for tonight.

Tonight, the air is thick and the town is silent. It's as though everyone in Ponyville has fallen under a spell. No lights shine out of homes. No laughter can be heard. It's nothing but pressing darkness and choking stillness and Twilight finds herself very, very glad that she isn't alone.

"Is it just me or does something not feel right?" Spike questions, voice sounding all too loud in the otherwise silent night.

Twilight gives a slow nod, gaze sweeping over the square. "No," she says, softly. "There's something off about tonight. I can't hear anyone."

"And you won't," comes a voice, all too familiar. A shape takes form in the shadows of the pavillion. "You'll never hear anyone from Ponyville again!"

"What are you talking about?" Twilight demands, taking a step forward so that Spike is behind her. "Trixie, I don't want to fight with you. I don't want to play games, either. Can't we just talk?"

"Talk? Talk?" Trixie laughs, high and shrill. Moonlight glints off of her fur when she steps out of the shadows and, for a moment, it looks as though the stars have taken up residence in her eyes. "Trixie has no patiance to talk with you! No, Twilight Sparkle. The time for talk is far behind us."

Spike scrambles forward, lips pulled back into a snarl. Dragons, you see, are a very protective race and Twilight is his; his best friend, his mother, his sister, his world. She won't be hurt without a fight and neither will Ponyville because it's his home, her home, their home.

"Go away," snarls Spike, tail lashing. His fingers curl once more in Twilight's mane.

Trixie grins at him, a manic glint in her eyes. Starlight gleams on her mane and flood her veins and there's something wrong with her, so very wrong, but it's far too late to change anything.

"Make me," responds Trixie. Then her horn begins to glow and chaos falls upon the town.

-x-x-x-

"Goobye, Twilight Sparkle," says Trixie, with a sneer. Her words are sachirine and sour all at once. They catch on the broken buildings and crumbled stone, echoing through the silent ruins that had once been Ponyville.

More than that, they echo through Twilight's mind. She feels numb and blank and empty. Ice runs through her veins and a strange sort of hollowness settles in her chest, as though a part of her has been ripped away and forgotten about.

Trixie's words are heard but not registered. Nothing is. Twilight is exhausted and in pain, unable to comprehend anything accept for the fact that she lost.

Small hands curl around one leg and Twilight is distantly aware of Spike's voice. Her mind refuses to distinguish the words, though, is far too focused on the way her magic pulses with each stuttering beat of her heart.

The unicorn sinks to her knees. Cracks as thin as a spiders web start to form on her horn, spreading across the surface. Hot tears well up in her eyes but they never fall. Not in the way that she has fallen, her magic burnt out and her place in Ponyville gone and Trixie has turned her back on Twilight now, lips curled up into a sneer.

"No," breaths Twilight, and her eyes have gone wide now, as she stares off into the distance. Unseeing and unhearing and unknowing.

And Spike's eyes have gont wide now, as he struggles to get a better grasp on the situation. To fully understand what has just happened to _his_ unicorn.

And Trixie's eyes have gone wide now, becauuse she finally has a place in the world and this magic, this power, it is rightfully hers and shall remain a pleasant hum in her veins.

And the world goes still, if just for a moment. Frozen in mourning for a princess too naive and a dragon too young.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Chapter Two! Thanks so uch for the support, Twi! I really only have the most basic idea of where I' going with this...but I hope that it turns into a fun read for everyone!

* * *

The thing about moments is that you blink and they vanish.

That is, at least, the case with this moment. In a rush of motion, the world comes back to life. Birds rush from where they had been hiding. A last flare of magic, dark and violant, lashes out and slams into the wall of a nearby building. It cracks and crumbles beneath the onslaught of pure power, as so many of the other houses and stores have. Wind howls and rages and the heart of a young dragon does exactly the same.

You see, dragon's are a funny sort of creature; they have secrets that they aren't even aware of. This is especially true for the young ones, the babes, the children grown with no one around who is exactly like them.

Spike stands there and he is lost.

Trixie's laughter becomes one with the wind, a twisted and haunting sound. Her tail swishes and the light of the moon glints from her horn, from Twilight's horn, from a crack that runs through alabastor and pierces magic and ruins lives.

"Twilight," shouts Spike, as the unicorn mare crumples to the ground. Her eyes stare straight ahead, wide and unseeing and far, far too dull. "Twilight, get up! Get up!"

She doesn't and Trixie pauses, just for a moment. Her brows furrow like she isn't fully sure what's just happened and she takes a step forward, just one, but one is all that it takes. Spike is back in a world of motion, you see, and he spins around to face the blue mare.

Spike bares his teeth at Trixie and he is lost.

"Don't," he warns, with all the feroucity that a baby dragon can give. His growl is swallowed by the night and Twilight stays still and Trixie stares, stares, stares - turns on her hooves and leaves.

-x-x-x-x-

Getting Twilight up isn't easy.

Spike doesn't understand it, not really. He knows what's wrong, but only in the form of a pulsing, pounding, throbbing voice in the back of his mind that tells him this is _wrong_ in every way.

"Up," he tells Twilight, again and again, until his voice and the voice in his mind becomes one and the same.

She doesn't rise

doesn't rise

doesn't even look at him. And so Spike wraps his arms around her neck, tight as he can, and lets himself burst into flames.

Letters, Spike can control. But not this. He's never done it before, you see, didn't even know it was possible. The green flames flicker over his body and hers for a long moment. Colors blend and merge and the world spins, faster, faster, faster, only to right itself as quickly as it went wrong.

And there they are, in the Golden Oaks Library. Sulfur is heavy in the air and the floor around them is singed, yet Twilight is untouched. Her eyes somehow manage to look glossy and dull all at once, legs buckling beneath her again. The polish is fading from her coat and the crack in her horn is turning black.

Spike holds tight to her neck and he is lost.

-x-x-x-x-

Come morning, the entire town is talking. The square is in ruins and so are a few of the nearby houses. There are burns on the road and a peculiar tang in the air that can only be described as dark, as bitter, as something not entirely normal.

It's a dark sort of magic that will never completely fade, no matter how much time passes. They don't know this now, of course, and so ponies are scrubbing at the streets and trying to fix the damage that's been done and Rarity stands off to the side and watches them with a frown because, for some reason, this entire area feels like Twilight Sparkle.

More importantly, she watches as Spike walks from spot to spot, pacing and racing, so frantic that it hurts. He's lifting this piece of rock and that piece of rubble, acting for all the world like he's searching for the secret to the universe. Like if he can just look hard enough then it will be there.

But what, exactly, is he looking for?

"Spike," calls Rarity, moving to trot across the street. She has to duck around another pony, a tall thing with a pelt that clashes horribly with his hair, and by the time that she can see the other side of the road again, he's lost.

-x-x-x-x-

It's noon when there's a knock on the door. Spike is wound so tight that the noise makes him jump. His heart is pounding in his throat, his blood rushing through his veins, and all the walls are pressing in.

This is wrong, he thinks, this isn't where I should be, where we should be, we need to leave.

But it isn't like Spike can move Twilight on his own and so he opens up the front door. There's no smile on his face when he greets Rarity and he doesn't let the other unicorn in.

"What's wrong?" she asks, voice softer than it's been in a long time.

"Everything," answers Spike, because no other response will do. And, after a moment, he lets Rarity into the library.

It doesn't take long for Rarity to spot Twilight. In fact, she's drawn to her, like a moth to a flame. Hovers over the prone mare like a mother would her foal, all wide eyes and fearful gaze. "What happened to her?"

Anger curls beneath Spike's skin. It simmers there, like acid, trying to eat its way through and out. He pads over to Twilight and brushes her forlock from her eyes, which are closed now, in what he thinks must be sleep.

"Everything," he spits out, and the word is sour on his tongue. He draws in a deep breath and then another, bracing himself for an answer that actually helps too explain.

It turns out, Spike doesn't have too. Rarity can spy the cracks in her horn (black now, tainted, spreading with each passing _tock_ of the clock) just fine.

"Mother Mare," she breaths, and it's as though those two words steal away all of her strength. Rarity sags under the weight of her own body, sinking down onto all fours beside her friend. "Her horn! Spike - her horn!"

"It was Trixie," he hisses, and Rarity's eyes are solely on him. There has never been such hatred in the dragons voice before - but what needs to be understood is that Twilight is more than a companion. She is his friend, his sister, his mother, his world.

Without her, he is lost.

Anger bleeds into misery, so deep rooted that Spike fears he will never be happy again. Outside, life continues as though nothing ever happened.


End file.
